


fuck your ivy league sweater

by crownedcirce



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Break Up, Drabble, I just needed some attitude fuelled Yuri, Jealous Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, One Shot, Past Relationships, Pliroy, Punk Yuri Plisetsky, closeted JJ, college student Jean Jacques Leroy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcirce/pseuds/crownedcirce
Summary: JJ had left for college, Yuri had stayed behind, he had to of course. He was still in high school. They both fucking saw this coming and it had ended. JJ really just couldn’t let it go, could he?





	fuck your ivy league sweater

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a bit of a drabble because I am going stir crazy right now with essays being the only thing I've written in a long time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy a bitchy, punky Yuri. 
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @ punktsuki x

“She gone down on you in a public bathroom yet?” Yuri Plisetsky was sitting in the gutter outside the grungy bar, cigarette nestled between fingers too dainty to be anywhere near the roll of paper and nicotine. Not really by choice, he’d already lit up inside the bar and been asked to leave until he was finished. 

 

Common courtesy wasn’t his strong suit, nor did he ever pretend it was. He wasn’t fucking sweet, or polite. What you saw with him - all fraying denim skirts, cut up and tight around his thighs with fishnets ripped at his boney knees - was what you got. He wasn’t seamless or neat. He sure as hell was not the kind to meet your mother. He was uneven edges, torn denim, scuffed boots and the thing that caused the mascara surrounding girls’ eyes to run down their painted cheeks. He was rough, he was sharp, he was a total bitch. He knew it. He knew that JJ knew it just as well.

 

And yet… here he was. JJ, stepping out of the bar to come and meet him on the street, surrounded by people looking him up and down because he clearly didn’t belong here with his combed hair, his Ivy League sweater and chinos. 

 

JJ sighed as he sat down next to Yuri. Yuri wondered if he was okay sitting down there with him in a damn gutter. Shouldn’t he be worried about scuffing his white shoes? Were his knees okay? He was old, right? And he was so fucking tall, he had always been grumbling about growing pains. He decided it didn’t matter though and that he didn’t care. Maybe he wanted his stupid knees to hurt. 

 

“You know she’s not like that, Yuri,” He replied, choosing to answer Yuri’s question instead of wasting time with pointless formalities like  _ hello, how are you’s? _

 

“Is she as loud as I am?” Yuri probed before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He refused to look at JJ sitting huddled next to him. He wouldn’t let himself give in to the pull inside his chest that told him these ocean blue eyes, only centimeters away, were familiar. Familiar they may have been, but safe? No. 

 

Yuri felt the brush of JJ’s shoulders as he just shrugged. 

 

“Well, that’s a no,” Yuri passed the cigarette to JJ. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as their hands brushed, as they inevitably would. He stubbornly kept his gaze trained out onto the street in front of his, blinking when the occasional car turned the corner and sped passed them. “Does she know you’re queer as shit?” 

 

JJ ran a hand through his hair, probably mussing up his stupid fucking side part that he had apparently started to style it in. “I’m not gay,” he gritted out. He held the gifted cigarette between his thumb and forefinger for just a moment, contemplating his options. Yuri knew he quit before he left for fucking Harvard. JJ kept it, pressed it between his lips and inhaled. 

 

_ Don’t think about his lips, Yuri.  _

 

“Bi, whatever. You looked pretty fucking  _ bi _ with your dick in my mouth just six months ago, Leroy. Does she know?”

 

“No.” 

 

He wasn’t sure why that answer hurt. He knew what the answer would be before he even asked the question. He was kind of sick of people acting as though he didn’t exist, he guessed. 

 

“Why the fuck are you here, JJ?” Yuri sighed, exasperated now. He turned to look at him finally, when he didn’t respond immediately. His patience for douchebags with gelled bangs was running slim. 

 

“I’m just back for the weekend, it’s my brother’s birthday,” His answer was short. 

 

“No, not back in town. I mean here, at the bar, at my gig, why did you come?” Yuri pressed. He was in the middle of his band’s set when he was interrupted by a dumb smirk that had pushed its way to the front of the stage. Yuri tried his best to ignore JJ while he strummed and screamed into the mic for the remaining ten minutes. 

 

“Just came to see you play. See what you’re up to these days. You’re still going to class, right?” 

 

Yuri shrugged. “I’m not your responsibility, just see your family and do what you gotta do but don’t come checking up on me, okay?” Yuri shivered. It was cold out but he couldn’t tell if he was cold or just shaking with anger. 

 

JJ had left for college, Yuri had stayed behind, he had to of course. He was still in high school. They both fucking saw this coming and it had ended. JJ really just couldn’t let it go, could he? He wished his body had not betrayed him that way, though. Shivering seemed like a sign of weakness in that moment. Without even an utterance of complaint from Yuri about the cold though, JJ was shrugging off his sweater and wrapping it around Yuri’s smaller frame. 

“Does your mom like her?” Yuri asked after a silence that probably would have dragged out for the duration of two whole songs. 

 

“What?” JJ looked genuinely confused. God, how did this dumbass get into fucking harvard? 

 

“Isabella? Slim, dark, and gorgeous? Does your mom like her?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, she does.” 

 

Abruptly, Yuri got up. He wrapped JJ’s sweater tighter around his bare shoulders. “Well, I’m going back in. You can come or you can leave, I don’t give a shit.” 

 

JJ followed. 

***

JJ was in the middle of the library, a pile of books tucked under his left arm as he continued on his search for two others. His phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. It was probably Bella, it usually was. Or his mother. 

 

He put his search on pause as he dug the device out of the pocket that hugged his leg way too tightly. His thick brows knitted together as he saw the contact name appear on the screen, covering the red-lipped smile of Isabella’s face he had set as his wallpaper. He couldn’t help but smile down at the name. He didn’t analyse that, though. 

 

It said that the text was an image. 

 

Naturally, knowing the nature of the person who’s number was stored under  _ Princess _ in his phone; he looked over his shoulder to ensure that nobody in the aisle could see the content on his screen. 

 

JJ’s jaw dropped once he opened the message. 

 

There, on his phone was a picture of the sweater he had left with Yuri that weekend. It was lying limp on a concrete surface, cut up and set aflame. 

 

His phone vibrated with a follow-up text. 

 

**Princess**

> fuck your ivy league sweater.

  
  



End file.
